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Church
Courtyard - Castle Decepticon - Helex Crossing the very unpleasant acid moat via the drawbridge and passing through the murderhole protected gatehouse goes to the courtyard of Castle Decepticon. '' ''Hexagonal in shape and lined by heavily patrolled wall walks, the courtyard is an open area crowded with formations of guards marching this way and that. Directly in front of you is the cavernous entrance to the castle. Past its crackling purple energy gate, you can see the massive staircase leading into the towering monolith. Above the entrance is an ornate balcony used by Galvatron when addressing the troops. It is flanked by two smaller pulpits, used by less important commanding officers. '' While the Decepticons had no formal 'religion' to speak of, it is easy to argue that everything they fight for is for the State- the realization of a unified Decepticon Empire. In this long struggle, the worship of that state, and the idolization of its figurehead was inevitable. Matters of faith were effective tools of control and violence throughout the galaxy. Not utilizing them may have been Megatron's greatest failure- a failure the current regime would not repeat. Cyclonus would see to that. He stood in a private chamber overlooking the courtyard of Castle Decepticon, watching as the soldiers of the Empire began to file in. The area was decorated with statues of Galvatron, and banners depicting Decepticon deeds of bravery that every mech gathered would likely see something of themselves in. They had, after all, been designed that way: so that all would see their hand in forging Galvatron's Great Future. Cyclonus watched, and waited. It was almost time. Soundwave is on site naturally, if it involves keeping an eye on the team, he's there. And if he's not there, well you just don't see him there. So keep that in mind, Swindle. The entire notion of this was beyond the Spymaster, but he is one of the actual Loyalists for the Empire and whomever's shiny metal posterior sits on the throne. He idly studies the regal paintings in the area, most notably the huge fresca on the ceiling, 'The Destruction of Prime', which shows Galvatron reaching forward towards a downed Optimus Prime, (who's face has been sandblasted to change to Rodimus), in Galvatron's hand is a lasercore. The Tape Commander gives a nod of approval... Far in the back of the hall, a group of five Kickbacks are sitting together in a group. Well, they look like Kickback, but the color is significantly off - they're green, black and red. and... well, none of them look terribly bright. One of them picks up a digi-hymnal and looks at it, turning it over in his hands a few times. He pokes at it. This makes the screen light up. He pokes at it again. It shuts it off. A stupid grin passes over his face. He spends the next several minutes flicking the screen off and on as the other four lean over and watch, completely fascinated. You know the saying 'sweating like a hooker in church'? Well, thankfully Scorn will be doing none of that today since this isn't exactly a church of Primus or anything. Though it's certainly decorated like one, the looming statues making antennas twitch in brief agitation. It's fair to say she doesn't want to be here, not one to openly praise Galvatron like some of the devouts despite her respect for him. Still, it's better than being punished for not attending. Once through the courtyard gate, Scorn slips through the crowd with ease, that ever present air of importance hanging on her, before finding a suitable spot to watch the events from. And yes, those Shotholes get a glance, though their obvious stupidity makes optics roll and head shake in dismay. Harrow has been making a decent effort to avoid getting on sh**lists as of late, so that's why she's hurrying to wherever it is she ought to sit. Or stand. She's good at hailing, but she'll hail whatever keeps her alive. Regarding Cyclonus and Soundwave with a glimmer of wariness, she moves to find a center row, keeping her head low. At the last moment she turns to sit right beside Scorn. Maybe for the warmth from her flames. It would be easy to mistake Castle Decepticon for some German fortress at full dress during the height of the Third Reich on Earth, the way it has been beautified at staggered intervals by wide banners hundreds of feet long, each grand streamer emblazoned with a monochromatic Decepticon sigil against a rich purple background. Throughout the courtyard, champions of Decepticon past line pathways and have been polished to a reflective shine. On the air, Decepticon hymns echo hauntingly, the motion and flow of the notes drawing your eyes up the fortification's resolute bulwark to a balcony lined ornately with similar decorations. If one had the ability to peek inside the room beyond, one would find Galvatron sitting in a smaller reproduction of his proper throne, finger and thumb pinched together where his facsimile of a nose meets his brow. "Cyclonus... explain to me again the point for these charades, when Overlord taunts me into action a world away?" Rumble remains right beside Soundwave, remarkably well behaved for a little delinquent in church. Two Decepticon scientists hurry in, running late from Polyhex. They've clearly been arguing for the entire trip. "You think this project is just now going bad? That brown and yellow piece of antique garbage has been a curse since day one!," the red one argues. His dark green peer disagrees. "I'm telling you, we're so close! We merely have to figure out how to make the programming stick without breaking his mind." Red rolls his optics. "If we can. Though I will concede, the Nebulan theory is a fascinating solution...If any of them are even left standing after this Overlord business." The green one just nods and they find themselves a place against a back wall. Scorponok is here, standing in the courtyard. His imposing frame is hard not to notice amongst all the other Decepticons. But... he regrets it. He absolutely didn't want to come here, and just wanted to send Aimless and Misfire instead as a token show of loyalty. Zarak shot that down as stupid, however, noting the precarious position they're in at the moment. He also wanted to stay near the back and hopefully avoid being noticed, but Zarak shot that down, too, and so, Scorponok is standing near the front instead, blocking a lot of other Decepticons' views. Then Scorponok proposed just killing Cyclonus horribly, but that was also shot when Scorponok couldn't think of a way to prevent the entire freaking Empire from finding out who did it. (This is disgusting,) Scorponok thinks, taking in his environs. He's struggling especially not to sneer at the fresco of Galvatron triumphing over Prime. (I expect obedience from my crew, yes, but not worship!) (Yes, I know,) Zarak sympathizes. (Most leaders like ourselves do try to create a... cult of personality, but this is a bit much. Even so, until we think of a way to safely kill Galvatron and his fellow devil-spawn, we have to play along!) Counterpunch walks in quietly. He finds a seat quietly and sits down quietly. No internal dialogue, no outlandish behaviour. It's certainly Counterpunch but who that is might have been up for debate recently. As yet he's giving nothing away. Blast Off joins the crowd making their way in, scratching occasionally at something still almost visible on his chest if you look closely enough: the name "Shiftlock" burned into his chest plate. He's tried to cover it with fresh paint from Counterpunch's impromptu field kit, but he hasn't had the time to get the plate replaced yet. The Combaticon glances around him as he walks in, an uneasy demeanor about him that he tries keep a lid on. This is NOT his idea of a good time, and he can think of an infinite variety of things he'd rather be doing than come to this. But he heard something about *mandatory* attendence, so... here he is. Though speaking of church, the former Renegade Decepticon probably would feel a little like Daniel walking into the Lion Den... if he knew what that was. All the Galvatron glory- and the likelihood of Galvatron himself being here... makes him hang back, trying to just blend in with the crowd. Times like this he's glad he has dark, nuted colors. He idly fiddles at his chest plate and looks around the crowd once more... looking for his fellow Combaticons. Ever since he woke up hanging from a bridge in Tyrest, he's been unable to get in touch with any of his team... and perhaps it's his combiner wiring pinging at him, or maybe it's just his imagination but... he's especially keen to find Vortex and make sure that crazy glitch of a teammate is alright. Cyclonus bows low to his Emperor. "The State must be allowed to revel in your Chaotic Purity, Lord Galvatron. All of Cybertron, Faithful and Heretics alike must be reminded of your Cold and Just Glory." Rising, Cyclonus, grinds his fist into his heart. "Overlord will know of this gathering. And he will fear Your Grand Inevitability." He turns to Scrapper, waiting in the room. "Let us begin." At the balcony high atop the entrance to the castle, the Constructicons file out, splitting in either direction so that they line either side of the entrance. After a moment, each member lifts a trumpet to their lips and/or faceplate. A loud and triumphant brass song fills the sky, announcing the beginning of the ceremony. '''https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8JQ_lKNe9U' Cyclonus steps onto the balcony, and raises his hands, waiting for silence. And then, something unexpected. An ancient and familiar recitation of old Cybertron, that all would recognize, despite being repurposed for this new era. A hymn of violence that would push lesser Autobots to their knees in fear. A clear and cold baritone voice. Cyclonus is singing. In Cybertron's steel silence, all alone, '' ''Stands a single crater, which far off throws '' ''The only blight that the Empire knows: '' ''"Behold: I am Galvatron," saith the stone, '' ''"The Tyrant King; this mighty devastation shows the powers of my hand." '' ''The City's gone, '' ''Naught but the Crater remaining to disclose '' ''The site of this forgotten Iacon. '' ''We wonder, and some Seeker may express '' ''Wonder like ours, when thro' the void '' ''Where Prime stood, holding progress in check, '' ''He meets some remnant of death, and stops to guess '' ''What perfect and brutal force '' ''Once shaped that annihilated place. Soundwave ends up in the front row, unfortunately next to Scorponok. The enormous Headmaster leader is taking up a lot of room, and there just wasn't much room to kissa...er pay proper homage to Galvatron. For several moments, he ponders if he's wanted on the stage, but well...Cyclonus was there, and SOMEBODY else is Warlord's pet nowadays. His hands tighten against his legs for a moment. Cyclonus singing was surprising and impressive. It wasn't his thing to be sure, but the King of Communications actively focuses 16% of his frequency scanners towards it. The rest of course, is used to snoop on everyone else on site. Combat: Cyclonus inspires Soundwave, Scorponok, Scorn, Rumble, Kickback, Blast Off, Harrow, and Counterpunch with uplifting and majestic words! One of the Shotholes has started to eat the digital hymnal, chewing it with the dull wit of a ruminating cow. A second picks up an extra digital hymnal and follow suit. Unfortunately there's only one hymnal left for the remaining three, and as one reaches to grab for it, the other two lay their hands on it as well. "mine!" the third protests (quietly because they are in church of course), trying to pull it away. "mine!" says fourth, trying to grab it back. "mine!" fifth complains, pulling at it. They're all starting to shove ach other around. "mine!" "mine!" "mine!" "mine!" "mine!" Scorponok takes his seat, which helps *some* of the other Decepticons sitting behind him to see better. He glances to his side--ugh, Soundwave. (Hello, Soundwave,) Scorponok thinks. (If I even suspect you're reading my thoughts then I will rip you to pieces in front of your entire family of tiny abominations!) (Oh, stop that,) Zarak thinks. (That telepathy thing is just a rumor--) Then something horrifying happens. Cyclonus is singing. Scorponok clamps his mouth down tightly. (No. NO. If I have to sing Galvatron's praises--literally--I will go for it! I'll go for it right now, I'll kill Galvatron in front of everyone! Yes, I can feel it, this is it!) Zarak spends the hymnal mentally shouting Scorponok down and preventing him from going berserk. Scorn only turns her head a moment or two after Harrow sits down, optics fixing on the seeker and a playful, sharp smile curling her lips. "Hm, I thought I'd felt a sudden, icy chill. It's good to see you, dear. How've you been? Still cloistered away in that little office of yours?" She teases the shrewish femme, though quickly falls silent when the rest of the crowd does and turns attention forward again. Do her audials decieve her? Is Cyclonus actually singing? Scorn actually looks surprised by this, staring as the second in command regails them with his voice, which is quite nice she'll admit. Who knew? Galvatron does not lift his head to regard his Second then, a furrowed brow and scowl cutting his brushed steel face as his head remains in hand throughout the entirety of Cyclonus' generous explanation. The Emperor's customarily bright, rage-filled optics are now quite dim, and Galvatron clutches at the center of his make-shift crown as though to keep other forces at work within at bay. Struggling in this, the trumpet call serves to soothe him in some way, and with a snarl he begins to rise from his chair. From the feined seclusion provided by the room leading out onto the balcony, even Galvatron lifts his chin and expands his chest with pride as his audials filled with Cyclonus' genuine recital of dedication and zeal for his Empire. Is that an unthemely tear upon his optic ridge? Soundwave is suddenly VERY interested in what Rumble's doing, his gaze averted from Scorponok. Rumble is, for one of the few times in his existence, somewhat impressed by a form of entertainment that doesn't directly involve violence. The song tells an inspiring story, and one a lot of them need to believe with happen within their runtimes. Victory IS within grasp... Outwardly, the little cassette-con is just watching Cyclonus with interest, not really noticing anything else. Harrow's hands in her lap start to twitch when Scorn addresses her. "Oh you know, the usual, just working amongst the dead or dying or in the very least agonizing. What can be said," she whispers flatly. It's certainly difficult to stifle a wistful sigh and a look of yearning, however painfully faint, at the surprising singing. She's instantly angry at herself, but the Insecticons chattering in the back take her mind from it. "Hnnn. They will get cannoned," she asides to Scorn. Blast Off glances over as Cyclonus starts singing and the Combaticon can appreciate the skill and study required in order to perform something like that well. He pushes aside his concerns for a moment to listen and even enjoy just a bit. Once it has finished, though, he makes his way through the crowd, trying to find a place for himself. He gives an annoyed look to the Shotholes as he walks by, then his optics fall upon Harrow and Scorn. He stops, considering whether to interrupt, then proceeds towards them. "Scorn, Harrow." He nods a greeting. Who knows, they might know what happened in Tyrest. Cyclonus stands aside for his Emperor, head bowed as Galvatron passes. After a moment, Cyclonus raises his arms once again. "Since the dawn of our dream, the noble Seeker has been a symbol of our Empire's strength. One of their wings' best and brightest, Harrow, shall now address you all regarding her love of our perfect Empire." Scorn shoots a side glance at the clones when Harrow speaks of them, a mild look of annoyance crossing her face a moment. "Hn.. No matter. If they want to get cannoned, then so be it. There's plenty more where they came from." Isn't she just such a loving queen? Thankfully Blast Off moves in to distract her, the femme greeting him with a pleased smile. "Blast Off, good to see you. I wondered where you'd gone off to. Come, sit. Harrow has to go make a speech anyway." She grins at the medic toothily, eager to sit Blast Off down in her place once she's out of it. Relieved that the focus changed for everyone, Soundwave turns to look behind him towards Harrow wordlessly. Cyclonus was asking for testimonials, which meant that the Spymaster had as good a chance as any to be called upon. His chest begins to whirr as he starts to process some information on Laserbeak, prepping something up ahead of time. Sitting next to Scorponok was a mistake, if for no other reason than the usual "I don't answer to you" sort of chicanery that has crippled the mighty Empire since its inception. There's a moral here somewhere. As the apocryphal hymn settles into silence within Cyclonus' throat, Galvatron moves with a short series of fluid strides to stand at the edge of the ornately fashioned balcony, the Constructicons and their polished bugles flanking his arrival as they did the same for Starscream thirty years ago. Truth of the matter, it was by Galvatron's explicit demand that the components of Devastator were ordered to assemble and play the same fateful dirge they did for that ill-fated Seeker, a touch of malicious symbolism that the Tyrant King would not denied. Galvatron lifts his hand up from his chest to his shoulder, signaling for Harrow to stand and deliver. "Yes, Seeker. May your words reflect great credit upon your long-serving and ever-faithful breed," he says with a barely suppressed, sardonic chuckle. Rumble's legs swing restlessly once more, the spell broken for the time being. He glances around, then looks back toward Blast Off for a moment, but that big Scorponok is blocking the view. Frustrated, he is resigned to listen to...some kind of speech that Harrow has to give. This is not as good as the epic war tone-poem. Not even close. Harrow spares Blast Off the slightest of nods before Cyclonus decides that she's the best seeker for this job. She looks around. /Me/? "Of-all-the-seekers-here," she murmurs tensely through a false smile, slowing getting up from her seat. "Don't take my seat!" she hisses sharply at Blast Off, then goes to shuffle up before the crowd, clearly nervous, her wings drooping. They droop even more when Galvatron speaks to her. Ever-faithful breed... Damnit Starscream. "...My love for the Empire is boundless and unmatched! Who was it that warned you all of the dangers of shirking your hailing duties? Me and no other! Hailing is good for your health, it's a proven study." She nods stiffly. "My love for the glorious Empire is strong because I believe there will be a day where we will have enough resources to /properly turn you all into RIGHTEOUS SEEKERS/. And repairs will not require /custom parts/," she sneers pointedly at Scorn. Then Blast Off. And then at anyone that's not a seeker, except for the officers of course. "Er, HAIL GALVATRON!" Galvatron frowns, suddenly having grown extremely angry. "No. Noo... this won't do. THIS WILL NOT DO AT ALL!" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdnti_0s318 Blast Off gives Scorn another small nod and moves in closer just as Cyclonus suddenly places a spotlight on Harrow- who is near him. The Combaticon freezes, then very slowly drifts off and away so that the numerous optics that are all going to be looking their way shortly aren't looking at him, too. He mentally winces at the subject matter and just hopes they don't call on HIM next. He is just about to take Harrow's seat when she hisses at him and he flinches back slightly, soon finding himself on the other side of Scorn. He whispers to the Insecticon femme, "I have been busy, as usual." For some reason, he's suddenly keen on making sure Scorn doesn't see that name on his chest, and he leans down slightly so that's more in shadow... not that this place isn't shadowy enough. That leaning only gets worse as Harrow *flippin' POINTS HIM OUT*, for which he glares daggers at the Seeker. He almost comes back with a retort, but sees Galvatron frowning and.... yeah, just gonna stay here quietly in the shadows with Scorn. Soundwave nonchalantly shifts the sleeping Rumble behind him to avoid possible instant judgment. Once the hymnal is over, Scorponok finally relaxes and calms down. Ah, but then he remembers who he's sitting next to. Ugh, Soundwave. He doesn't hold back his sneer this time as he glances at him. "Soundwave," he mutters. "Here to play suck-up, eh? Well, considering how 'uncharismatic' you are, maybe I should have Zarak write a speech for you? I promise it won't subtly make you look foolish!" He shuts up when Harrow speaks, though, paying attention. Both Scorponok and Zarak inwardly groan as she uses the speech for bickering with the other Decepticons. No wonder Galvatron isn't happy! Or maybe he's randomly angry over something...? The five Shotholes are now eating hymnals and even a pew contentedly, blissfully ignorant of anything going on around them. Scorponok is fixing Soundwave with a death glare for some reason. Well, maybe he has a headache. Soundwave is slightly more smug than he probably should be, sitting next to ripshred and near an enraged Galvatron. That said, he makes no sudden movements. With the switness of a guillotine's blade, Galvatron's non-cannon arm swipes at the air across his chest as he barks out. "I'VE FOUND YOU OUT!" The Tyrant King stabs at Harrow, levelling his psychotic judgement upon her. "YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE, DID YOU!?" Galvatron grasps the ridge of the balcony with one hand and shoots over the rail with a powerful leap, landing in the center of the courtyard with a thunderous crash! The Dark Emperor's face is alight with contempt and outrage, and he wastes little time in stalking after the Seeker with a predatory stride. Soundwave says, "LORD GALVATRON!" Rumble wakes up, and peeks over Soundwave's shoulder, just in time to see Galvatron going after Harrow. Now, he's interested again. Soundwave says, "YOUR ORDERS?" Galvatron says, "STAY OUT OF MY WAY!" Soundwave says, "AS YOU COMMAND." Cyclonus glances at Galvatron with a mix of surprise and alarm, clearly ready to tear apart whatever it is that displeases the Emperor. "My Lord?" He watches Galvatron leap, but remains on the balcony, ready to rain terror in Galvatron's Holy Name. Soundwave is on his feet in an instant. While he can't dodge for beans, the Tape Commander knows what to do when Galvatron is in a mood. He radios in for direct orders, and promptly follows them. He puts a hand over towards Rumble, encouraging him to GET UP AND BACK AWAY as well. Liberal interpretations of 'stay out of my way' include, get near an exit. Weaponless for the moment, Soundwave can do little more than be a spectator, lest he gets the sights turned upon him as well. Counterpunch continues to sit and listen. That is the purpose of his being here. Harrow knows better than to run, not that she could run anyway, frozen in terror. This is what she gets for randomly killing off drones or other lowly peons. At least she gets to die at the hands of their beloved and feared emperor. The seeker just collapses in a heap, half groveling and half bracing for the worst. Scorponok's response to all of this is to calmy remain seated. So long as it's not him that's going to get thrashed for whatever reason, what does he care? But the giant Decepticon is honestly wondering what the hell it is that flew up Galvatron's aft this time. Then he notices his neighbor moved out. That gets another Soundwave another sneer. "Heh. Coward," he whispers quietly, knowing Soundwave will likely hear it anyway. Rumble has to do what his Boss (dad) tells him to do, despite wanting to protect him. So he complies, but he doesn't leave out the nearest exit; he stands close to it, and watches the situation cautiously. Blast Off would jump back in alarm as Galvatron suddenly goes into a rage and heads their way, stalking after Harrow- except every ounce of what composure he can keep works on remaining as "aloof" as possible. He still flinches, though, then decides it would be wisest to remain seated. Sort of that "don't run or you'll trigger the Predatory instinct" defense. So he sits- though his antigravs are very quietly powering up just in case. Shothole #1 looks up. "Derp?" Galvatron thunders across the open expanse of Castle Decepticon's perfectly landscaped central plaza, ignoring Harrow all but entirely as he reaches across his body with that mighty fusion cannon of his to swat her aside as though she amounts to little more than an ant to a God. Galvatron continues on the warpath, his path now clear to Counterpunch. The double agent now square in the framework of his burning hatred, Galvatron bellows out, "TRAITOR!" The ferocity in his voice rings out and echoes across the palace grounds. Combat: Galvatron strikes Harrow with his STAND ASIDE OR DIE! (Punch) attack! Soundwave says, "COUNTERPUNCH HAS BEEN DEEMED A TRAITOR, ALL FORCES REMOVE YOURSELF FROM HIS PRESENCE OR FACE YOUR IMMEDIATE DEMISE. LORD GALVATRON WILL NOT BE DENIED." Rumble STARES as Galvatron shoves Harrow aside, and goes after... "Counterpunch??" Suddenly, a few oddball events he remembers from the previous cycle in Tyrest begin to fall into place. Shothole #1 says, "Derp?" Counterpunch sits. He smiles a faceless smile. And waits. Galvatron cackles wildly, his body racked with delight and hate, drawing his fusion cannon up to bear with the finality of an execution's axe. A horrible orb of black-purple energy manifests before the barrel, twisting inside the cylinder like a hurricane. "STAND, DECEIVER! STAND AND ACCEPT YOUR FINAL MOMENTS!" Harrow is swatted aside like nothing. She skitters across the floor and smashes into a pew, where she just remains in a heap, trembling fiercely, hands over her head. Ohgodwhatshappening. The Shotholes, finally sensing danger, begin to scatter in all directions with repeated, terrified cries of 'Derp'. Blast Off just... stares, wincing slightly as Harrow gets knocked aside... /that/ looked like it hurt. Then Galvatron's off to rant nonsense at Counterpunch. The Combaticon remains seated and is again simply glad it's not just HIM that attracts teh crazy. There's enough to go around and, well, they do say that misery loves company. Blast off almost looks a bit smug. ...Almost. The Constructicons drop their trumpets and draw their Constructicon Pistols, and look to Cyclonus for the command to rain hell. Cyclonus holds up an open hand. "Hold, Scrapper. This is Galvatron's life to take." Soundwave settles himself, though still uneasy with the situation. It didn't make sense, Counterpunch was one of Soundwave's better operatives, aside from his own tapes of course. They've spent so many sweeps attempting to ferret out the Autobot mole in the organization. Still, if Galvatron deemed him dead, that was how it was going to go. Soundwave is no hero, and moves not to stop the inevitable execution. Counterpunch sits. Lord Galvatron is displeased. Unfortunate. For whomever has brought that disgrace upon themselves. Counterpunch continues, still seated, dutifully paying attention. Galvatron seethes with unlimited hatred and excess energy, armor bristling with dark power as he prepares to wipe another spark from the face of the planet. "DEFIANT TO THE BITTER END, ARE WEEEEE?!!? VERY WELL! KNOW THAT YOUR DEFIANCE IS ALL THAT SHALL REMAIN OF YOU!!!!!" Galvatron doesn't even finish his scream before he unleashes hell, his verbal rage drowned out by the horrific shriek of a full-on fusion blast! For a moment, everything is washed out in white-hot overload, nothing perceptible from anything else. A long time later, the furious flash subsides, a heavy smoke cloud now blanketing the courtyard - and it can finally be seen that everything within a 10 foot span, a swath of destruction that ends an inch to Counterpunch's left has been completely, fully, totally obliterated. (Now this is ridiculous,) Zarak gripes. (Let's just wipe out the entire medical staff while we're at it, that way Galvatron can yell about nobody being around to fix the very same people he just damaged. Oh, and good, now Galvatron's threatening... that guy.) (Zarak!) Scorponok mentally yells back. (That's Counterpunch! The very same Decepticon listed in the same rosters you and I both reviewed! YOU'RE IN MY HEAD! You're supposed to be able to know everything I do!) (Well...) Zarak thinks. (He's just so unremarkable...) Meanwhile, Scorponok is just sitting there, watching the madness over his shoulder. Shothole #3 has fallen into one of the pipe organs, creating an immediate and ominous chord. Rumble scoots closer to Soundwave to get a better look at the traitorous death -- just as the blinding fusion cannon goes off, and his sensitive little optic band hurts for a while. Then, when he's able to clear the interference, he's not quite sure what he's seeing. Did...did Galvatron MISS? Did he hit someone else?? What just happened? Scorn had diseappeared a few moments from where she sat, likely due to an editing error, but soon she's back and thrust in the middle of chaos as Galvatron goes storming into the crowd and fires off at Counterpunch. Welp, time to bug out. The instict to retreat is a hard thing for an Insecticon to ignore, Scorn bristling as their leader raves. In an instant she mass shifts into tiny mode and wriggles under Blast Off's collar plating whether he likes it or not. With a flurry of shifting and compacting parts, Scorn is now in her teeny tiny mantis mode. The red and green scientists are now dust. Any secret project they were working on lost. The threat of the traitors ended at Galvatron's own hands, Cyclonus waves down the Constructicons, and approaches the rail of the balcony to regain control of what has become a bit of a free for all. He points at Counterpunch. "You, loyal lifeblood of the Empire, valiant soldier of Cybertron's future, inspire me with your steadfast courage before the Emperor's wrath. If only all Decepticons were as shining an example as Counterpunch!" "But on this night, you all inspire me. I see something powerful in you all. Our Lord Galvatron saved us from the terror of a Dark God, and threw the Usurper Rodimus Prime from his terrible eye, to give us a chance to devote ourselves to something more vast and terrible than what our own sparks could comprehend alone." "And I see in all of you, the manifestation of his Will. The agonizing spread of his Truth, spreading across the rusts of this Galaxy like a cleansing fire. I urge you all to rise." "To stand with me and give voice to your devotion in your own way. To let the Heretics that would stand in our way hear our strength and tremble before our unyielding devotion to the Empire! Gird your rubsigns! Our strength for the Decepticon Empire! Our lives for Lord Galvatron! Decepticons, lend me your voice!" He watches for reactions from everyone gathered. But mostly he just stares at Scorponok, challenging the Headmaster to not fervently worship at Galvatron's altar. Is that how we were remembering that fight now? Soundwave has a momentary delay, then belts out a mighty "HAIL GALVATRON!" His arm raised up in the motion, delivering the salutation a single time. It annoyed him that he had to take cues from Cyclonus, especially cues he hadn't already worked out, but that was how life was for today's single parents.... Shothole #1 sings joyfully, "Derp! o/`" Shothole #2 looks around and asks, "Derp?" Shothole #3 is stuck in the organ. DUN DUUUUUUUUN! o/` Shothole #4 falls from the ceiling. "DeeEEeEEeeEeerrrp!!" Shothole #5 eats another hymnal. Rumble joins in, and that little guy is pretty loud when he wants to be. Not Frenzy-loud, but he comes close. "HAIL GALVATRON!!!!" Counterpunch stands to attention. Facing forward. He is unworthy to turn and address the mighty one directly. Speak only when directly addressed by a superior officer. A precision salute, followed by a joining of the chorus of voices in praise "HAIL GALVATRON!". He is Counterpunch. He is a Decepticon. Right now . . . that's all he is. Harrow is not budging in the least, even after hearing the explosion. Cyclonus presses on, but damned if she'll lend any voice to that horrible zealot! No, she's just going to remain on the floor, armor still rattling. Scorponok's first impulse is to lunge at Cyclonus and rip him apart, but Zarak shoots that down even as Scorponok is standing up in preparation for said violence. (Rrrrgh, what do I do? I speak with my claws, isn't that enough devotion!?) Scorponok gripes. (Just follow everyone else's lead,) Zarak advises. "HAIL GALVATRON!" Scorponok booms instead, making a point of trying to sound louder than everyone else. Then he adds, "And death to everyone who opposes the Decepticons!" Blast Off just remains seated, trying not to flinch in terror at the blast of destruction from the Decepticon Lord's cannon... though it does make him want to flee, to fly right back into the safety and icy comfort of space. The former traitor just never does like those little reminders. Frozen watching the chaos unfold, he doesn't notice Scorn until there's a tickling along the back of his neck. Then- Oh my. The Combaticon jumps up, hands reaching back as Scorn- tickles him. "Gah!!! Stop it!!! I MEAN it!" He dances around a little, hands still trying to dig her out of there... to no avail most likely. Then he stops and looks up as Soundwave, then Rumble yell out some hails. He suddenly quiets again. There's a glance over at the Shotholes real fast as he wonders who on Cybertron let THEM in here anyway, then he looks up at Cyclonus. "Uh..." Blink. He sticks a fist in the air and tries to /look/ enthisiastic, but most likely fails, optics darting about as if still pondering where the exits lay. "Hail Galvatron!" He hears Scorponok and adds, "Indeed!" Because he's now a completely and totally loyal Decepticon and all. Yeah. Galvatron surveys his judgement with a cold demeanor, lifting his chin and expelling a grunt. The Decepticon that has been reduced to ash is not even worth a eulogy - at church of all places. The fusion cannon shimmers with thermal overload, smoking and whistling as the heat dissipates from within. The Tyrant King stands fully, passing his gaze across each Decepticon gathered before him with an evaluating eye. He pauses for a moment to regard Scorponok with narrowed optics, but saves the Headmaster the trouble of being ridiculed once more in front of his soldiers. One round of punishment ought to prove sufficient, afterall. With the gait of an alpha mech, Galvatron takes to the air on his boot thrusters, setting back down on the balcony to stand again in its center and stalking back off to once again resume his throne as Cyclonus closes services for the evening. Tiny Robotic Praying Mantis looks about as cross as a small mantis can when peeking back out of Blast Off's armor when it's safe. Ugh, really? He was shooting the scientists? And to think she got worked up over nothing. With a soft huff she just waves a small scythe arm and rattles off a lazy 'hail galvatron', though it isn't likely to be heard by anyone other than Blast Off. And to be nice, she exits his collar and instead settles on top of his head, because someone like her deserves to be on top and able to see. Soundwave says, "IT WILL BE NOTED ON COUNTERPUNCH'S RECORD, HIS STEADFAST RESOLVE IS TO BE COMMENDED. Blast Off hufffs softly as Scorn sits on his head but right now... he's keeping quiet and trying not to attract attention. So really... he can understand where's she's coming from. So he lets her remain there. For perhaps once in his life, he'd almost trade being a space shuttle for just being able to HIDE really well, as she can. ...Not really, though. Harrow finally gets to her feet and dusts herself off. Thankfully she's off to the side, so she can try to sidle along the walls and get the hell out of this horrid church before anymore cannonings happen. Galvatron says, "Return to your duties!" All five Shotholes now converge on Blast Off, derping cheerfully. Kickback | Shotholes derp in unison. Scorn says, "Get back to the hive, clones! There's work to be done!" Kickback | The Shotholes ignore Scorn. "Derp." u_u Scorn hisses., Galvatron says, "Scorn, shut them up or /I/ will." Kickback |Shotholes suddenly silent. Scorn says, "Y-yes Lord Galvatron." Galvatron says, "I've never been good at telling you creatures apart, either."